Bound

Morvane crossed his arms, a sly grin forming. "Huh? So I'm the master? Hahaha!"

Drevon tilted his head, smirking. "Oh, so you can laugh now? Impressive."

"Well, what can I say? You're going to give me a chance to ascend back to Baltalaha, so yeah."

Drevon chuckled, his voice dripping with mock amusement. "True. But let's not get too comfortable with this whole 'master' thing."

"Wait," Morvane's grin faded slightly. "If people see you in Baltalaha, they're going to assume you're evil because of… well… how you look."

Drevon rolled his eyes, smirking. "Who said I'm going to look like this there? I can change outfits too, you know. Appearance isn't exactly a limitation for me."

"Fine, but how am I getting back to Baltalaha?"

Drevon raised a shadowy eyebrow, his smirk growing. "Excited much? Don't worry, I'll handle it."

Before Morvane could respond, Drevon's form began to twist and shift. His body spiraled into a vortex, a swirling black hole that consumed the air around them.

"Wait, what are you—" Morvane's words were cut off as the vortex surged toward him, pulling him in.

The sensation was overwhelming—a mixture of weightlessness and crushing pressure. Darkness enveloped him until, with a jarring thud, he found himself back in the room he had been in before.

The scroll was still plastered to the ceiling, glowing faintly, but the once-ominous red marks had faded. He looked around and saw Crimson and Medas lying unconscious on the floor.

"Crimson! Medas!" Morvane rushed over to them, shaking them gently. "Wake up! It's over… I think."

Crimson stirred first, groaning as he blinked his eyes open. "What… what just happened?"

Medas followed shortly after, sitting up slowly and rubbing his temple. "Morvane? Are we… are we still in the realm?"

Morvane shook his head, his voice firm. "No. We're back in Baltalaha. But… things just got a lot more complicated."

He glanced up at the scroll, its faint glow reminding him that Drevon wasn't just a memory. He was here, tied to him now in ways he didn't fully understand.

The scroll began to move violently again, spinning in midair as red marks flared across its surface. Before Morvane could react, Drevon emerged from the shadows, his form materializing in the room.

Startled, Medas and Crimson jumped into action.

Crimson drew his katana in one swift motion and lunged toward Drevon. "Stay back, demon!"

Drevon smirked and sidestepped effortlessly, dodging the blade with inhuman grace. "Oh, you're fast! I'm guessing you're one of the talented ones here. Impressive!"

Medas raised his hand, summoning his telekinetic power to hurl objects at Drevon. Chairs and debris flew through the air, but Drevon danced around them as if it were a game, his movements fluid and unbothered.

"Easy, easy! Why are you all so itchy to fight?" Drevon said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Crimson narrowed his eyes, keeping his katana raised. "You're a demon. Do we need any other reason?"

"Fair point," Drevon replied with a smirk. "But let's not jump to conclusions, shall we?"

Medas glared at him. "State your purpose, or I won't hesitate to crush you."

Drevon chuckled, clearly amused. "Relax, gentlemen. I come in peace… mostly. Anyways, I'm guessing you two must be Morvane's daddies? Hahaha! Just kidding, just kidding!"

"Watch your tongue," Crimson growled, tightening his grip on his weapon.

"Alright, alright, no need to get all parental on me," Drevon said, waving them off. "I'm here to explain myself. So, please, no more attacking. Let's be civilized, shall we?"

Morvane stepped forward, holding up his hands to calm the others. "Wait, stop! He's… with me."

Crimson and Medas turned to Morvane in disbelief.

"What do you mean, with you?" Medas asked, his voice sharp.

"It's complicated," Morvane said, glancing nervously at Drevon. "But just… hear him out."

Drevon grinned. "Finally, someone sensible! Now, let's talk."

Drevon leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, as he began to speak, echoing much of what he had told Morvane in the realm. "Let's clear a few things up, shall we? The markless are chosen by destiny. Neither demons nor gods have any say in this. It's completely out of our control. When a markless is chosen, it's not random—it's destiny weaving its threads."

He grinned, his red eyes glowing faintly. "Now, here's where it gets interesting. Since Morvane and I have met, and since we're both here in Baltalaha, this marks the first time in a thousand years this has happened. Usually, there's only one to three markless in a century. But this century? Morvane is the chosen one. And in this millennium? He's the one who's met his demon. Rare doesn't even begin to describe it."

Drevon smirked, his voice tinged with mockery. "Though, judging by history, all the past markless were probably dumb as rocks—"

"Shut up! You don't know them!" Medas interrupted sharply, glaring at Drevon.

"Ouch, that hurt," Drevon said, placing a hand on his chest in exaggerated pain.

Morvane quickly cut in before things escalated further. "We already know who the first markless was before me."

Drevon's expression shifted briefly, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. "Oh, is that so? My bad then. I'll take it back. Haha!"

Crimson, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. "So, what you're saying is that you and Morvane are… one now?"

Drevon grimaced, as if the idea itself disgusted him. "Uhh, technically and disgustingly, yes."

Morvane furrowed his brow. "Wait, so you're just going to… guard me?"

Drevon laughed. "Of course not, kid. I'm going to help you control your power. That's something the markless have historically struggled with—and probably why they tend to die young. You see, without guidance, that power eats away at you. But lucky you, Morvane. You've got me." He grinned, pointing at himself smugly. "I'll guide you, train you, and maybe even save your life a couple of times. You really should be thanking me."

Morvane rolled his eyes. "Lucky me…" he muttered under his breath.

Drevon suddenly stopped, his smirk vanishing. "Wait. Silence…" he muttered, his tone sharp.

Before Morvane could respond, Drevon swiftly cut his arm with a shadowy claw. Blood dripped to the floor as Morvane winced in pain.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" Medas and Crimson shouted in unison, rushing forward.

"Calm down," Drevon said dismissively, pointing to the growing shadow behind Morvane. From the darkness, a massive wolf-like creature emerged, its black fur rippling as if it were made of smoke. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Morvane.

"Ohhh, a shadow beast!" Drevon said, clapping his hands in delight. "And a wolf, no less. Pretty rare. You continue to amaze me, Morvane."

Morvane glared at him, cradling his injured arm. "Care to explain why markless have shadow beasts they can summon?"

Drevon turned to him, his expression calm yet amused. "You know that each markless is bound to a specific demon, right? Well, those demons reside in the dark realm. In order to watch over the markless, shadow beasts emerge as their eyes and ears. But let me tell you, it's not enough. That's why it's much better for the demon to be by their side, like me."

He gestured to the wolf. "Also, each shadow beast is unique to its markless. They have their own abilities."

Morvane frowned. "So, what's the ability of my shadow beast?"

Drevon shrugged. "I don't know just yet." He stepped closer to the beast, staring into its glowing eyes. After a moment, a grin spread across his face. "Aha, I got it! It consumes spirits."

"Yeah, I already know that," Morvane said, unimpressed.

Drevon smirked wider. "Well, do you also know that it doesn't just consume spirits—it absorbs their power and transfers it to you?"

Morvane's eyes widened. "What?"

"Yes," Drevon said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Your beast eats spirits, keeps their powers, and lets you use them. What an astounding ability for a shadow beast! I bet the gods in heaven would absolutely hate that. Hahaha!"

"Enough!" Medas snapped, his voice cutting through the room. "How can we trust anything you say?"

Drevon turned to him, his expression indifferent. "Oh, you don't need to trust me. I'm not here for you—I'm here for Morvane. You're irrelevant to me."

Crimson stepped forward, his katana gleaming as he raised it again. "Don't disrespect us. We're rulers of Baltalaha!"

"And I'm a demon," Drevon replied coolly, his red eyes narrowing. "Still a higher being than you."

The tension in the room thickened as Crimson gripped his sword tighter, ready to strike.

"Stop!" Morvane shouted, stepping between them. "If Drevon were untrustworthy, he could've killed us a long time ago. But he didn't. So maybe we should listen to him… at least for now."

Crimson hesitated, his blade lowering slightly as he exchanged a glance with Medas. Neither looked convinced, but Morvane's words gave them pause.

Drevon grinned again, his tone smug. "Smart choice, kid. I like you more already."

Drevon straightened up, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Alright, alright," he said, raising a hand dramatically. "I'll change my outfit. No need to be so serious. I'll make it… normal for now." He closed his eyes briefly, and in an instant, his shadowy form shifted. The black, ominous attire morphed into a more conventional, yet still flashy, outfit—dark robes trimmed with gold, a mixture of regal and refined, but much more suited for the mortal realm than his previous garb.

"See? Much better," Drevon said, surveying himself with satisfaction. He then turned to Medas and Crimson, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "I'll also be respectful toward you, rulers. No more demon theatrics for you."

Crimson's gaze remained cold, but Medas appeared slightly less tense, though still on guard.

Drevon spread his hands, as if offering a peace gesture. "Now, to make everything clear: I'm here as a guide for Morvane. Not here to create chaos or wars, like how you paint us demons in storybooks. I'm not some villain out to destroy everything in sight. My purpose is to help Morvane control his power, and, maybe, just maybe, give him the chance to thrive."

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms with a calm confidence. "So, before you start jumping to conclusions, think of me as an ally. Whether you like it or not, your fates are now intertwined with Morvane's. And I, for one, am here to make sure he doesn't fall apart."